Holding On And Letting Go
by freiheitfuehlen
Summary: Post 3x11. Pre-trial and mostly focusing on Will. Also Will/Alicia and Will/Kalinda  friendship
1. One Door Swinging Open

**A/N: **New story! And it's a multi-chaptered one. I'm crazy, really, because I already have two WIPs for two other fandoms, but hey here we go. Read and review, please. You know, it makes me smile. Chapter two will be up by tomorrow, before the new episode airs.

**Holding On And Letting Go**

"_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't. It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed."_

Will sat in his car in front of his apartment building; the rain was falling onto his windshield and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of his black Audi in contemplation.

"_You know it would be the smart move."_

There were many things – most of them Will would deny to anyone but himself, he did not have the first clue about but he knew with a certainty he had not felt often that talking to Wendy Scott-Carr was not the smart move she had made it out to be mere hours ago.

He picked up his phone, scrolled down his address book to a familiar name and almost pressed call. His thumb was hovering over the button but his mind was denying his finger to act on what his heart so desperately wanted to do.

Call Alicia.

Will let the cell phone slide from his grasp onto the passenger seat and started the engine of his car.

He drove the familiar route to his work place, entered the parking garage and took the elevator up to his floor. No one was there when he reached Lockhardt/Gardner and he was glad. He walked over to his office and opened the door. Will walked to his desk and poured himself a glass of Scotch. He took a sip quickly before he sat down in the leather chair opposite his couch.

He looked out into the darkness of the night, watching the lights gradually being switched off in the office building opposite his. It was getting late, Will supposed, maybe even too late for a lot of things.

Will was startled from his reverie when he heard a soft knock. He turned around in surprise and smiled lightly when he saw Kalinda standing in the threshold.

"It's late," she said casually before she walked over to the cupboard behind his desk to get herself a glass. Then she retrieved the bottle from the table in front of Will, poured herself a glass of Scotch and sat down on his couch. "And you're drinking."

Will remained silent for a few moments, contemplating his words – his thoughts, really, and how much he was either willing or even able to share. He took a sip from the glass in his hand, pursed his lips and when he spoke his voice sounded unusually neutrally, almost as if he had resigned himself to a hopeless case.

"Sometimes I wish I had never come to Chicago."

His eyes drifted from Kalinda's, over her shoulder and out into the Chicago night; staring blankly ahead he lost himself in his own thoughts once again. Will needed to make sense of everything and find a solution which would benefit all of them as best as was possible in the mess he had created – or so he thought.

They sat in silence for almost thirty minutes, occasionally sipping Scotch from their glasses and refilling them with more liquor.

"What do I do, K?" Will asked and Kalinda was surprised at his need for advice. It was unlike him to ask or demand guidance. He was the kind of man who made up his own mind – afraid of letting other people interfere with his own judgment based on reason and analysis. But maybe that was why he had asked Kalinda; they were same – at least in that way.

Kalinda sat on his couch with her legs folded and one hand in her lap while the other one was holding tightly onto the glass of Scotch. She straightened her back and looked Will in the eyes when she said,

"You tell me to look into this, that's what you do. You tell me to find out what Scott-Carr knows and what angle she's playing. You tell me to look into Peter's connections, if he's in this. You tell _me_. And _you _sit here and drink with me and then you go home and get some sleep. When you come in tomorrow you do your job because you are damn good at what you do. And I do mine."

"K," Will paused and smiled at Kalinda, "You're a good friend."

Kalinda merely blinked at him and Will understood. Kalinda hated accepting compliments or honest gratitude. For her those equaled emotional strings and she was working so hard not to let anyone get close – not anymore.

"It's my job."

"No." Will leaned forward, elbows on his thighs he clincked his glass with hers. "You're a good friend."

As the door swung closed behind him Will sighed and took of his shoes. The silence unnerved him, enabled to bring conversations he had had and would have to the forefront of his mind. We walked into his living room and turned on the stereo. Tunes of Bob Dylan filled the room. He sat down on his couch, leaned his head against the back of it and closed his eyes. His muscles started burning from exhaustion. For a moment he thought about heading to his bedroom for a more comfortable and relieving sleep but his willpower was shot down by his body's need for rest, so he fell asleep on his couch.

To be continued.


	2. The Quiet Rush of One Breath

**A/N: ** I haven't been gone or intended to abandon this story. At all. I love them too much. I've had busy two weeks and I'm kind of glad because I would have gone down a different route. I like where the show is going with this, so here you go. I've been a slacker when it comes to replying the reviews. Just know that it means A LOT to me to receive them and I'll get better at it. Promise! Read and review, please!

Also, let's go Ravens!

**The Quiet Rush of One Breath**

The envelope felt heavy in his hands; still. Will let the tips of his fingers run smoothly, almost painfully slowly over the edges of the manila envelope. His cell phone sprang to life and startled him from the quietness of his own thoughts in an otherwise over-crowded and noisy bar.

_Alicia._

Will sighed, took the glass of Scotch in front of him and let the liquid swirl before taking a sip while letting the incoming call go to voicemail. He would listen to it later, Will told himself. For now he wanted silence and to only be accompanied by his own thoughts.

_A couple of days earlier_

_Will fisted and flexed the fingers in his right hand, craving the feeling of leather and stitching of a baseball on the sensitive skin of his palm. It soothed him. If only he could remember where he put it he chided himself._

"_Will," Diane started softly as she walked towards him with straightened shoulders and pursed lips. Her hand came in contact with his left shoulder. She squeezed it in reassurance. Will placed his right hand over hers, took it in his and squeezed softly back._

_Then he walked over to the cupboard behind his desk, retrieved a bottle of Scotch from the back of his stack of liqueurs. It was still sealed. One of his most expensive Scotches he had ever bought, for special occasions he had told himself back then; a little treat for everything he had achieved in his career._

_Will laughed despite the severe situation he found himself in currently and maybe a little because of exactly that situation. After all he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop for a while now. Things never just ran smoothly in his life. He had learned that early in his childhood and it's been his sole companion ever since; cynism with a hint of fatalism._

_Will opened the bottle, brought it to his nose to inhale the distinctive scent of an aged, quality Scotch. He let the scent imprint itself on his nostrils, determined to make a memory which held the ability to outlast the predicament of being in love with the wrong woman twice in his life; or maybe he added to this train of thoughts he had never been in love twice, maybe he had never fallen out of love with her in the first place._

_He toasted quietly to the life he loved, remembering the words he had said to Celeste a few months ago. As he let the liqueur burn his throat he still could not help but think that he would do it all again – everything, even if it meant going to jail. He was a fool, even in his own eyes, but one that had finally realized that the feelings they have had for each other for fifteen years were more than just a naïve and fleeting moment; a lapse in judgment, born in adolescent delusion._

_He turned to Diane drink in his hand and said with a confidence he had not felt very often in his life, albeit perfecting the pretence on a daily basis._

"_Now, we need to talk."_

_Diane took a few steps toward the leather couch in Will's office sat down and crossed her legs._

"_So let's talk then." _

_Diane folded her hands in her lap and looked up at Will fiercely, determination and sheer willpower radiating from her; engulfing the room in an aura of fighting spirit and safety. Will smiled at her, feeling the urge to hug her tightly to him rising in his chest._

_He went back to his desk and grabbed a second glass quickly before sitting down in the chair opposite Diane. He filled it about an inch with Scotch and passed it to her._

_Diane shook her head lightly._

"_It's too early to drink," Diane replied curtly._

"_Is it really?" Will laughed and smirked at her with one eyebrow raised._

_Diane smiled at him despite her need to clear things between them and took the glass from his outstretched hand. She let the Scotch swirl in its glass before bringing it to her lips._

"_So?" Diane started after setting the glass back down on the table between them._

"_It's starting to affect the firm…." Diane interrupted Will, shaking her head vehemently at his words._

"_No."_

"_Diane..it's the smart.." Will tried to reason with her but was once again interrupted by Diane._

"_No." This time it sounded harsher like a final answer to a lingering question._

Will closed his eyes.

"I'll have what he's having."

Will did not need to open his eyes to know who was taking a seat next to his. Kalinda. If he was honest with himself he was glad she was there. Kalinda listened, observed and gave advice without judgment. He realized that no one ever did these days, including himself. Everything was always about naming something, declaring something, and coloring in black and whites only.

"Was it worth it?"

Completed with a silent _for people like us_, Will assumed.

Will still remembered the feel of her skin underneath his finger tips and the softness of her lips pressed firmly against his in a passionate kiss. He remembered the scent of her hair spread across his chest and the little moan of his name right before she came whenever they made love. He sighed and took a drink from his Scotch.

"Yes."

To be continued.


	3. Some Prayers Find an Answer

**A/N: **Okay. I thought I'd be done with this a couple of days ago but oddly enough ideas get to me at the most random times, like when I'm at work serving a customer and am absolutely unable to write anything down. Keep in mind that this will head into the W/A direction but I am trying to stay in sync with the show as much as possible, exploring ideas and situations that I consider reasonable. Be that as it may, please read and leave a review! You know they make me happy.

**Some Prayers Find an Answer**

Will breathed in and out rhythmically, enjoying the rare, soothing silence on this rather warm Chicago evening. The quietness which surrounded him was only shortly disturbed by the sound of the baseball bat in his hand connecting with the ball a machine threw at him every few moments.

3…2…1…Will counted down the seconds in his head until he had to get ready for another hit. He straightened his shoulders, closed his eyes for a moment until he heard the dull sound of the machine shooting a baseball fast in his direction. He swung the baseball bat and hit the ball hard – with as much force as he could muster, almost as if he tried to collect all of his current issues and release them into the night with a simple swing of the baseball bat.

His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket for the fifth time that night. Word had gotten out that Will had been indicted and was supposed to face a grand jury hearing in the morning.

Just one more hit, Will told himself, and then he would leave the cage, pick up his belongings and drive home to a night of watching the sports channel and enjoying a glass of Scotch. This mess was slowly turning him into an alcoholic Will mused but could not bring himself to dismiss the easy fix of booze and the promise of numbness and carelessness it held.

The drive home seemed oddly long to Will, with the unique voice of Frank Sinatra coming from the car speakers he turned right into the parking garage beneath his apartment building.

The elevator dinged and Will realized she was there before he even saw her. The distinctive scent of perfume clouded his nostrils and when he looked up he saw her. Alicia. Dressed in black with her hair falling down her shoulders she leaned against the wall next to his door.

She was beautiful. But then, Will thought cynically, she had always been beautiful to him and it had never mattered.

As he walked towards her, grabbing the keys from his coat pocket he realized that there was so much more between them than just four feet – a distance measurable in numbers. Furthermore there was thick wall of unspoken words and denied truth. Right then, looking at her, he wanted nothing more than to tell her how much he loved her and that everything was going to be good simply because it had to be. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, tell her he had a plan – one that included parent-teacher conferences and picking the kids up from school. He wanted so desperately to be able to tell her exactly how he felt but when he reached her and saw the sadness in her eyes, he swallowed – his own feelings, the distant whiff of hope. He brought his arms around her shoulders and hugged her tightly against his chest as he said, over and over again.

"It's not your fault. It's. Not. _Your_. Fault."

They stood like that for several minutes, enjoying the comfort of each other presence and the rare silence that seemed to have vanished from their lives in the last couple of turbulent weeks.

When Will leaned back, tugging one of her strands behind her ear. He let his thumb linger against her soft rose cheek for a moment longer than was probably appropriate. Alicia sighed deeply, closed her eyes against the tears which were welling up in her eyes and when she opened them again the sheer look of adoration and security in Will's eyes made her lean in and brushed her lips chastely against his.

"Alicia." His voice was soft, merely above a whisper, and the same time it was so raw that every word she might be able to utter right then could be salt on an open wound, so she did not say anything.

"Why don't you come in?"

Alicia was silent for a little longer before she pursed her lips and shook her head lightly.

"I can't. I'm already late for dinner."

Alicia leaned into him once more, bringing her right hand to the back of his head and kissing the side of his neck before she whispered, "It's going to be okay."

As Will watched her walk away, promising a night of restlessness and the fear of dreaming about her, he sighed and whispered.

"Just because we want for things to end well, doesn't mean they will."

To be continued.


	4. A Friend in Need

**A/N: **Short one for now but one that had tob e put top aper simply because I adore the friendship between Will and Diane. For those of you waiting for another Will and Alicia piece, it's coming so be patient. Read and review. You know the drill.

**A Friend in Need**

"_A friend in need is a friend indeed."_

Will saw her through the glass windows and for once he was glad they had decided to make this office a place of honest work, built on visibility. Her smile was small but it reached her eyes in a way that made Will's heart beat faster in his chest. He took a final drink from his Scotch – single malt, double shot, no ice.

As he walked over to where she stood he hummed a silent melody in his head, one of friendship and trust.

"This was a close one." Will admitted with a smile on his lips, one that can only be born in victory and last through time by faith and sincerity.

Diane laughed despite her intentions to chide him like the good friend she was to him, a mentor or more so a big sister; the kind that supports, speaks truths and stands by you no matter the cost.

"Let's reduce the excitement, shall we?"

They had known each other for eight years, which was two thousand nine hundred and twenty-two days of bickering, fighting and making up again. But they always did that together and yes, when Diane heard about the troubles Will had had at his first firm in Baltimore she felt blindsided but it did neither shake her trust nor her faith in Will Paul Gardner because ever since they had come together he had been nothing but a loyal partner – growing to be a loyal friend; the kind that supports unconditionally, speaks truths and stands by you no matter the cost.

They had had their differences in the past but Diane was sure that no matter what if roles were reversed he would have stood by her the way she had stood by him and maybe that was the greatest treasure which had been discovered in this mess of blame and intrigues.

True friendship outlasted every debacle, every deceit, and every downfall.

To be continued.


End file.
